


spoiled

by hexmionegranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:16:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8417014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmionegranger/pseuds/hexmionegranger
Summary: Pansy Parkinson always gets what she wants. Which is why, when she decides she wants Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood, she wonders if she has to make a choice at all. modern non-magical university AU. drabble / one-shot.





	

Pansy Parkinson always got what she wanted. Ever since she had been a child, from the pony she had begged her father for (it stank so, so badly) to the car at sixteen (not, of course, that she could drive very well) to her spot on the varsity cheerleading squad (that one had been easy), she got what she wanted. 

Which was why, when she realized she wanted Marcus Flint, resident lacrosse team captain and general asshole, she figured it wouldn’t take that much work. All she would need to do would be to get him alone, twirl a strand of her currently-dyed-green hair around her finger, pop her bubblegum pink lips at him, and bam.

Pansy was not used to not getting what she wanted.

The first party that she’d seen him at, she sauntered over in her too-high heels and too-short skirt and simpered and giggled and he’d played along for a bit, kissing her neck and grinding against her on the ‘dance’ floor. When she tried to pull him up the stairs though, he kissed her hand and told her she was drunk and should probably go and have some water and a nap, and then slipped out the front door, not before slipping a scrap of paper with his number on it down the front of her bra.

At the second party, Pansy’s foolproof plan of pursuing Marcus hit a small snag. That small snag was a lithe baseball player by the name of Oliver Wood, who kept catching her eye across the room and running his hand through his short blonde hair like he didn’t realize how ridiculous that looked. The problem, of course, with always getting what you want is that you have to know what you want first.  

Pansy decided she would give this Oliver a shot, and so she reapplied her lipstick and settled on a slightly different tactic then she’d used with Marcus. She shoved a red cup overflowing with beer into his hands, sighing about how the guy running the keg tap had been flirting endlessly with her and wasn’t it just so cute that he thought he could buy his way into her panties – which were lace, by the way. Foolproof, really. 

Except. Except Oliver looked at her with a grin that was friendly instead of predatory, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and chatted to her about her classes ( _boring_ ) and his team’s standing ( _more boring_ ) and whether or not the cheerleaders would be there for their final game ( _obviously_ ). When she’d finally gotten bored of Mr-Nice-Guy, she tried to take his hand and lead him for the stairs but he held back, watching her curiously. If he hadn’t been infuriating enough, he fed her a line not dissimilar to Marcus’s about being too drunk but he also slipped his number into her palm and winked at her as he led her out to find a cab.

The next Friday night found Pansy stone cold sober (a rarity) with her cellphone in her hands and the two pieces of paper in the other.

Marcus or Oliver.

Oliver or Marcus.

Forearms to die for or biceps worth killing for?

It was starting to feel like an impossible conundrum but Pansy hadn’t shaved her legs and put on her good lingerie and not had a single drop of alcohol to _not_ get laid that night, so she really needed to make a decision.

Or… did she?

Before she could stop the absurd thought that had hit her like a ton of bricks, she had keyed in both of their numbers and fired off a text, then pulled a simple black jersey dress on over top of her outfit.

Oliver arrived first, smiling easily at her and chatting her up about whether or not she had seen the latest game in the series (who even knew baseball had _series_ ) as she led him up the stairs. Just as she was ushering him over to the bed the doorbell rang and Pansy left him there and darted down, pleased to find Marcus waiting.

Marcus was quieter, but his grin was hungry in a way that made Pansy shiver and so she led him up as well, and didn’t flinch when Oliver and Marcus looked at each other and then at her.

“Look.” She began, as she shut the door and pushed Marcus over to sit next to Oliver on the bed, standing in front of them both.

“I always get what I want.” She paused, looking from Oliver to Marcus. “And, well. I couldn’t decide which one of you I actually wanted.”

Oliver frowned and opened his mouth and Marcus elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

“So I figured, that’s my dilemma. But, like. There’s a pretty easy solution, don’t you think?”

Oliver seemed to clue in, then, and Pansy pulled her dress over her head, tossing it behind her towards the laundry heap that lived in her corner and placing her hands on her hips, tapping her manicured nails against the protruding bones.

She watched as Marcus looked over at Oliver and the two seemed to have an entire conversation in eyebrow raises and nods and then, when they both looked back at her, she grinned.

Finally.

“Well? It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

Pansy Parkinson _always_ got what she wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy this was a wild ride. people were talking about this on tumblr and then I drank a beer and I couldn't sleep so I guess now it's A Thing.
> 
> anyways.
> 
> I didn't proofread this at all so I hope it's not too terrible???


End file.
